


Keep Your Enemy Closer

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, superhero personas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A story about what happens when a superhero and their rival have been living under the same roof without realising it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I found this post on tumblr a while ago that said something about a superhero story where the hero and the villain are roommates and keep making excuses about why they're out all the time and patching each other up after battles and I immediately thought of Kyman. 
> 
> This takes place in an AU where The Coon and Friends never existed when they were younger so their secret identities aren't totally obvious to each other at first.

Kyle stumbled into his apartment around one am, cursing every muscle in his body as he slammed the door and leaned back against it, sliding down into a sitting position and trying to catch his breath. 

“Shit, this is gonna hurt in the morning,” he mumbled to himself, wondering for the hundredth time why he was even trying to do this super hero thing.

Deep down he knew why, the world needed protecting and he couldn’t consciously sit and do nothing when he knew he had the powers to do it. People needed saving and bad guys needed to be taken down and he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he ignored that. Sure it meant he was tired and snappy at work most of the time and sometimes he forgot to stay in touch with his family and friends, except for his little brother who knew all about his secret identity and sent him valuable information when he could, but it was worth it to know that he was making a difference. He had fans and there was talk of a film franchise about him being in the works, which were kind of nice bonuses, but he mostly did it because he wanted to make the world a better place.

Kyle sat up a little and groaned when several bones clicked. He briefly wondered again if he was losing his touch. In the past few weeks, a new villain had arrived on the scene and for the first time in a long time Kyle was struggling to put a stop to his antics.

At first he had assumed the guy was just another one of those overly confident guys with a grudge against the world who had no idea what they were getting themselves mixed up in. He had found out after their first fight that this wasn’t the case. The guy may not have been as agile as Kyle was, but was just as powerful as him and could sometimes be twice as cunning in the midst of a fight.

It was kind of thrilling, being so evenly matched with someone after a few years of easily defeating his enemies without much of a challenge. Whenever he was informed of another sighting of the guy it was like he felt a rush of adrenaline that reminded him why he had started doing this in the first place. Some strange part of him enjoyed their encounters too much and didn’t want to defeat him just yet. 

Just when Kyle was beginning to get lost in thoughts of his rival’s teasing smirk and the hidden meaning in some of his taunts, the door burst open, hitting him in the back and making him curse in pain. “Kyle?” his flatmate’s voice questioned. 

Kyle shuffled away from the door to allow him in and sprawled across their cheap, kind of uncomfortable carpet on his back instead. He threw an arm over his eyes, blocking the light from the doorway and internally lamenting the fact that his eyes always felt sensitive as fuck after using his laser powers. 

His flatmate slowly entered and Kyle groaned when he heard a switch click and light flooded their apartment. “What the fuck are you doing sitting in front of the door at one in the morning?” he questioned. “Are you drunk or is this some kind of Jew ritual I don’t know about?”

“Hey Fatass,” he mumbled, choosing to ignore what Cartman said because he didn’t have the energy for an argument.

Kyle was suddenly thankful that he stopped to change into his normal clothes before coming home. He may have known Eric Cartman since he was a child, but he wasn’t about to just give away one of his biggest secrets to him. Especially not after some of the shit he’d been through because of him.

Kyle had moved in with him about a year ago now, in an apartment in a city not too far from South Park. He’d needed to get out of his house where he was basically waiting to be caught sneaking in at night with cuts and bruises and set his mom on the rampage to end all rampages. Cartman had needed someone to share the rent with so it worked out pretty well for them. They had argued a lot and butted heads at every opportunity throughout school, but the place was nice and the rent was fairly cheap so he wasn’t about to turn down a good opportunity when he saw one. 

Things were actually going surprisingly well so far. They had the odd argument here and there about ridiculous things like Cartman wanting to get a cat even though the place had a strict no animals policy and Kyle having a vastly different diet to Cartman, which sometimes left them fighting for kitchen space. Apart from that though they both took care of the place pretty well and they made a surprisingly good team when they both had common interests and goals so all in all things were going pretty smoothly. 

The only thing that somewhat threatened the balance they’d somehow achieved was Kyle’s after hours superhero activities. It was getting harder and harder to hide now that Cartman had a new job that had him coming back almost the same time Kyle got back from his own excursions. At first he’d told Cartman that he just went for a lot of walks in the night to clear his head, which the other had made an insulting comment about, but not really questioned.

Soon after though he had started coming home with injuries and Cartman had started getting more suspicious, which meant he had to keep coming up with ridiculous excuses, most of which he was sure Cartman hadn’t actually bought anyway. His latest ridiculous excuse was that he’d taken up fighting as a hobby and he was pretty sure the only reason Cartman had let that one go is because he knows that Kyle has a quick temper and a lot of stress to get rid of. It would probably only be a matter of time before he slipped up, but Kyle was intent on not revealing the truth until he absolutely had to.

He heard Cartman sigh and slowly removed his arm from his face to watch him walk to the kitchen with what looked like a bag of take out. “I bought us food on the way back because I assumed you’d be to busy having your scrawny ass handed to you to remember that humans need to eat again,” he explained over the clink of plates being placed on the counter.

With a great deal of effort, Kyle hauled himself up off the floor, wincing at the deep ache that had already begun to set into his leg muscles. He would have argued that he could feed himself just fine and that his ass wasn’t scrawny, but he was kind of still floored every time Cartman was considerate towards him, so he couldn’t really bring himself to feel like bickering.

“As if,” he snorted instead as he walked into the kitchen. “You know I wouldn’t let anyone beat me that easy.”

Cartman seemed to be remembering something. “Yeah, you can be a little monster when you want to be,” he chuckled. “I bet those other guys didn’t know what hit them when the tiny unassuming redhead unleashed his rage on them.”

Kyle almost took offence to the ‘tiny’ comment, but that was only because it was true and he hated it. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the counter behind Cartman and watched his movements as he took the food out of the bag and started putting it on the plates. He noticed that something was just slightly off, that Cartman’s movements were a little tense, but decided not to question it.

A silence settled between them as it usually did when they were being relatively nice to each other. They still weren’t quite sure how to navigate this weird friendship they’d somehow managed to stumble into, neither of them was quite sure how much they could say without making things awkward. At least their silences were comfortable though, neither of them felt that much pressure to communicate aside from a few friendly glances to reassure the other that they were actually getting along. 

“Thanks by the way,” Kyle suddenly said, “for the food I mean.”

“It’s cool bro,” Cartman replied, turning to face him with a smile. The smile melted away into shock though once he caught a proper glimpse of Kyle for the first time since he came in. “Shit, what the fuck happened to your face? You’re bleeding.”

“What?” Kyle asked, touching a hand to his face. He gasped a little when he pulled it away and saw blood coating his fingertips. “Oh. Shit.”

The adrenaline in his system was beginning to die down and now that he was aware he’d been cut, he started to feel a dull ache above his right eye. He trailed his fingertips along the area and winced at the sharp sting he felt when they came into contact with a cut on his forehead. 

“The person I fought was wearing metal claws on his fingers, I guess one of them must have caught me on one of his swings,” Kyle reasoned.

A brief, unplaceable expression crossed over Cartman’s features and he looked like he was about to speak, but he seemed to change his mind at the last minute. Shaking his head and muttering something that sounded a little bit like “fucking unbelievable” under his breath, he grabbed Kyle by the arm, dragging him back into the living room. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Kyle protested, yanking his arm away from the other boy’s grip.

Cartman ignored his question. “Sit,” he commanded, nudging him towards their couch and storming out of the room.

Kyle let out an exasperated sigh before taking a seat, wondering what the other was up to this time. He picked at the worn fabric on the arm of the couch as he tried to ignore both the throbbing of the cut on his forehead and the loud crashes and curses coming from what he assumed was the bathroom judging by the slight echo. 

Two minutes later, Cartman came back into the room carrying a first aid kit. He kneeled down in front of Kyle and leaned in without a word, staring intently at his forehead. After a second he made a tutting noise and lifted a hand to push Kyle’s hair out of the way, ignoring the hiss Kyle let out when he brushed against the cut. He started to feel slightly self-conscious when Cartman lingered in his personal space a little longer than he thought was necessary. He was about to tell him to hurry the fuck up when he finally sat back and looked Kyle in the eyes.

“You need stitches,” he announced before shifting the first aid kit onto his lap and rummaging through it.

Kyle brought a hand down on top of it, halting Cartman’s actions. “Hold on a fucking second here,” he frowned. “What makes you think I’m going to let you anywhere near my face with a needle? You haven’t even had basic first aid training and we used to hate each other.”

Cartman rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “Relax Jew,” he replied, “I know how to do stitches. I used to patch myself up sometimes after our adventures whenever my mom was out with some guy and couldn’t take me to the hospital.”

A twinge of guilt tugged at Kyle’s conscience upon hearing that. It didn’t take a genius to realise that Cartman had dealt with a lot of shit because of his mom and her suitors. It was evident in the way he got defensive whenever certain topics came up and the way he knew so much about living alone even when they had only just moved in. Sometimes it was hidden in plain sight, in the things he revealed without thinking during conversation. A lot of the time Kyle found himself wanting to ask about it, but he didn’t quite know how to do that without making Cartman feel like he was prying.

“Ok fine,” he conceded, “but if you mess up my face I swear-”

“I’m not gonna mess up your face anymore than it already is,” Cartman interrupted.  
Kyle went to respond, but immediately shut up when Cartman suddenly threw a pack of antiseptic wipes at him. “Wipe some of the blood off your face while I get this ready,” he commanded. Kyle glared, but did as instructed, cringing slightly when he saw the amount of blood staining the white material upon pulling it away from his face.

Kyle winced and drew in a sharp breath when the first stitch was made, expecting the worst. Cartman was surprisingly gentle and steady handed though so the rest of the process went by without much trouble. It also helped that he started to make conversation to distract Kyle from the sensation of the needle going into his skin. Kyle had still felt a sense of dread around needles ever since that whole incident with Apple in his childhood so he welcomed anything that would divert his thoughts away from it.

“How did you even manage to let this guy land a hit like that anyway?” Cartman asked. “I’ve seen you come back with a few bruises, but I’ve never seen you come back wounded like this before. Are you losing your touch or something?”

Kyle was slightly taken aback by that. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to Cartman’s insults and teasing, but there was something familiar about his tone that suddenly got to him quicker than usual. Not to mention he was voicing insecurities that Kyle had actually been feeling recently. It caught Kyle off guard more than just a little. 

“No!” Kyle snapped, before collecting himself when Cartman made a face at him for moving so suddenly. “My new opponent was just more of an even match for me than the guys I usually fight, that’s all.”

“Oh really?” Cartman replied, Kyle could just about see an oddly knowing look on his face despite the weird angle he was looking up at him from.

“Yeah,” Kyle admitted. “Usually my rivals can’t really keep up with me, but I’ve fought this person a couple of times now and neither of us were really able to gain the upper hand.”

“This person sounds pretty cool,” Cartman observed.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Kyle responded. “He’s actually kind of an idiot to be honest.” Kyle suddenly felt a sharp tug and hissed through his teeth. “Jesus Christ that hurt, asshole!”

“Oops... my hand slipped,” Cartman mumbled, easing up on the stitches again. 

“It’s kind of fun though,” Kyle said after a few beats of silence.

“What is?” 

“Fighting with that guy,” Kyle clarified. “I was getting kind of bored because no one was really challenging me, but he kind of makes things a lot more interesting... That’s probably a weird thing to say.”

“No I get it,” Cartman assured him. “Life is more interesting with challenges and competition to keep you on your toes. Do you know how fucking bored I’d be if I never had any opposition? I’d be so fucking bored dude.”

“That must be why we put up with each other for so long,” Kyle joked.

“Totally,” Cartman agreed in all seriousness. “Honestly I’d be dying of boredom if I didn’t have you here to argue with me about morals and shit.”

Kyle felt himself blushing and internally berated himself for it. He should not be getting flustered over what was barely even a compliment from someone he had spent the majority of his life fighting with. Coming from Cartman though it almost sounded close to some kind of confession. 

“I guess I’d be pretty bored too if I didn’t have to stop you from carrying out some of your ridiculous schemes,” he admitted.

A silence settled over them again until Cartman suddenly moved back, inspecting his work. He ran his thumb over the area a couple of times and Kyle tried not to fidget under his intense stare. For a split second he caught himself looking at the other boy’s mouth and had to discreetly snap himself out of that line of thinking before he made things any more awkward. Cartman must have noticed though because he abruptly sat back on his knees and cleared his throat before quickly starting to put things away.

“I think that should be fine as long as you don’t go getting punched in the face again and popping the stitches any time soon,” he noted, collecting the first aid kit and standing up. 

“Thank you,” Kyle said softly as Cartman was walking away.

Cartman’s steps came to a halt. “Don’t mention it,” he murmured. He left the room and Kyle was left to reassess everything he thought about the other boy once again.

In the months that followed, Cartman wasn’t the only source of conflict and confusion in Kyle’s thoughts. Kyle’s newest enemy had inexplicably changed his approach. Acts that had once been purely evil were now questionably good. They still fought, but now it was over whether they thought something was morally sound or not and not because Kyle was trying to stop him from randomly ruining the life of someone or possibly even trying to kill them just because he didn’t like them. When their fights did become physical it was never with the intent to actually cause any serious harm and there were more ambiguous, lingering grabs and touches than right hooks and well placed kicks.

The Coon still tried to one up him every now and again, especially when it came to attention from the press. They’d fought a couple of times over him taking credit for something either Kyle or both of them did. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them though that when shit got serious they had each other’s back. It was almost a case of only them being able to oppose each other, if anyone else tried anything the other would be on their case in a heartbeat.

He wasn’t sure exactly how his rival had come to the decision to become an antihero rather than just a straight up villain, but he knew when he’d started treating him differently. It was a few nights after Cartman had stitched his face up and they’d been fighting on the roof of a building when Kyle had lost his footing and fell.

The kite on the back of his costume had gotten tangled in the fire escape ladder and no matter how much he struggled or tried to untangle himself, he wasn’t budging. The Coon had smirked down at him, made a teasing comment about him deserving it for having such an impractical costume and then turned to leave. Kyle had resigned himself to the long, humiliating ordeal of waiting around for someone to spot him and help him out, thinking about the field day the media was going to have when The Coon had returned.

“What? Have you come to make fun of me some more?” he’d questioned, crossing his arms and frowning.

The Coon had hesitated for a second, seemingly deliberating over his next actions. “Goddammit,” he sighed eventually, clambering down onto the ledge next to the escape ladder. “Don’t make me regret this, but I’ve come to help you out.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What makes you think I want help from you?” he questioned, reigning in his shock at the strange turn of events.

“You’re dangling off the side of a fucking building and now you decide to be picky?!” The Coon snapped, before clearing his throat and getting back into character. “I mean… you don’t exactly have much of a choice if you want to avoid having your picture all over the news tomorrow.”

He doesn’t know what made him choose to accept this olive branch, but the cautious smile on The Coon’s face when he eventually pulled him free was enough to convince him that it was a good decision. Kyle began to reevaluate the snap judgements he’d made about the other guy as he’d watched him disappear into the night. He soon found that he also had to take back what he said about the guy being an idiot. He was very clearly quite intelligent with some of the plans he managed to pull off. Kyle hated to admit it, but sometimes he found himself actually feeling pretty impressed. 

Oddly, despite the lessened animosity between him and his super rival, he still found their encounters kind of addictive. The Coon still challenged him in a way none of the others he’d faced had, even if they were technically on the same side now. There was still the insulting and teasing, but now it almost bordered on flirtatious. Kyle found himself looking forward to bumping into him and almost felt a sting of disappointment when it wasn’t him that was up to something.

He didn’t feel like he’d have to worry about that tonight though, as soon as he’d received the call about a break in downtown he somehow knew his rival was involved. Who else would be involved in a crime as unusual as stealing a bunch of people’s pets from the most well known cat sitter in the area?

When he arrived the owner was outside with the police, wearing what he hoped were pyjamas and crying in a way that was a little too over the top. They described what they’d seen on the security camera and produced what Kyle instantly recognised to be one of the metal claws The Coon always wears, saying that they’d found it lying on the ground next to the remains of a shattered window. Kyle promised them he’d look into it and left the scene, wondering why the hell he didn’t just tell them he knew who it was.

As he walked away, his phone chimed loudly. He pulled it out and unlocked it to find a new message from an unknown number. ‘Ok so yes I did take all those cats, but it’s not as bad as it looks.’, it read.

Kyle scanned the area for people on their phone’s, his brows furrowed in confusion. Hardly anyone was out that evening and the people who were seemed to be more preoccupied with keeping warm and getting from a to b than texting. The Coon must have anticipated that Kyle would be on to him by now and texted him before he had a chance to jump to conclusions. That still raised a lot of questions, one in particular bothering Kyle more than the others.

‘How did you get my number?’ he typed, his thumbs flying across the keypad.

The response took a while and Kyle was almost about to give up and just call the guy when his phone chimed again. ‘That’s not important. Just go home for now.’ the message said. Kyle started typing out a protest when a follow up message appeared, ‘Trust me. I’ll explain soon.’

Kyle sighed and sent a quick ‘Trust you, sure.’ hoping that the sarcasm would come through when the other read it.

He made his way home anyway, stopping once on the way to change into his normal clothes. As he approached his building his phone went off one more time, the message reading ‘Are you going home?’, to which he responded with ‘Yeah dude, calm the fuck down.’ as he walked through the main entrance. He groaned when he looked up from his phone to see an out of order sign on the elevator and silently wondered how this day could get any more annoying.

It had been a very slow and tedious day at work and he had donned his super suit only to have the one incident he got called to be action free. Having been unable to do any real crime fighting he was officially irritated. He’d been hoping to let out some stress and get his adrenaline pumping again after doing nothing but paperwork all day, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen now. 

Work had been shit, they’d gotten his order wrong at lunch, he’d seen a bunch of shitty comments from his dad’s username on an article about his superhero persona via a screenshot from Ike followed by several eye roll emojis and then there had been no villain for him to take down at the scene of the crime. He didn’t like leaving a crime scene before he’d actually solved anything, it felt sloppy and irresponsible. Here he was though, climbing his way up what felt like countless flights of stairs because he didn’t want to risk any of his neighbours seeing him actually flying.

What made things worse is that he almost knew this wasn’t all that today had to throw at him. He was almost certain that something else would be waiting for him back at the apartment. There had been way too many coincidences lately and he was beginning to feel like he knew exactly what would be waiting behind that door for him. Part of him wanted to be done with today and just stay put and refuse to go any further, but he decided that sleeping on the stairs would be uncomfortable as fuck and definitely not worth it.

He exhaled deeply when he twisted the handle of his front door to find that it was unlocked. “Of course he’s home right now,” Kyle mumbled, no doubt in his mind that this was one of those days when Cartman would be up to something. He stepped inside quickly and slammed the door, not even taking a second look at the living room before moving swiftly toward his bedroom to put the backpack containing his suit away. He hadn’t had time to hide it anywhere today so that would have to do. As he closed the door to his room again, he swore he could feel something rubbing against his ankle.

He almost didn’t want to look, but when he heard a soft meow he tensed and immediately checked to see if he was hearing things. He wasn’t. There, repeatedly rubbing it’s face against his leg was a small, fluffy, ginger kitten. 

“Incredible,” he muttered, his tone dripping with exasperation. He stared down at the small kitten at his feet as it peered curiously back at him before slowly blinking and looking away, purring loudly the entire time. He continued to peer down at it for a few seconds, wondering how the fuck this could be happening right now, when realisation smacked into him like a freight train.

Cartman hadn’t asked any questions about his injuries since that first night, he’d just patched them up without so much as a blink. He almost acted as if he already knew they were there sometimes. The Coon had been acting differently since the night Cartman first helped him with one of his injuries, he’d been actively trying to cause less damage when they fought. He somehow already knew Kyle’s number and had been adamant that he return home from the scene of a cat robbery where there just happened to be a kitten in their living room.

Cartman was The Coon. Of fucking course Cartman was The Coon. They had the same body type, the same hair colour, the same knack for coming up with convoluted plans that mainly just benefited themselves when all was said and done and the same teasing smirk that both infuriated Kyle and gave him goosebumps. Cartman was The Coon and he had known that Kyle was The Human Kite all this time and never said a word to him about it.

Kyle’s hands clenched as he felt anger wash over him. “CARTMAN!” he called, turning away from the door and stalking through the apartment.

He heard a loud clattering noise from the other’s bedroom followed by a few mumbled curses and shushing noises. The door slowly opened a few seconds later and his flatmate stepped out quickly, shutting the door behind him before Kyle had a chance to look inside.

Cartman leaned casually against the door frame, trying way too hard not to look guilty and failing spectacularly. He winced a little as he leaned on his arm and Kyle suspected that he probably had an injury there from breaking the window to get into the cat sitter's house. 

“Oh hey Kyle, what’s up? How was work today?” he rambled, trying to act normal, but coming across as tense and unnatural.

“What’s in your room?” Kyle asked without hesitation.

“What are you talking about?” Cartman questioned. “There’s nothing in my room, just a bed, a computer and a bunch of clothes and video games.”

“Don’t play dumb,” Kyle said, taking a few steps closer. “What’s in your room? Show me.”

Cartman held his gaze, not backing down even though it was pretty obvious that he was guilty. “Why are you so eager to get in my room, Kyle? Is this your way of telling me that you have the hots for me or something?” he inquired, laughing nervously.

Kyle was about to argue again when a sudden crashing noise came from behind the closed door, followed by a muffled meow. He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at the taller boy, not having to say or do anything more than that to convey his message. 

“Shit,” Cartman mumbled, “Ok I swear to god that’s not what it sounds like.”

“Really?” Kyle questioned. “Because I think you forgot one.” He nodded down at the kitten that had followed him and was rubbing against his ankles again.

“Goddammit,” Cartman cursed under his breath, knowing that the cat was now well and truly out of the bag, pretty much literally. His expression suddenly softened as he watched the kitten in front of him. “Look at that, Kyle? She likes you!” 

Kyle found himself faltering a little when the kitten’s actions and the warmth in Cartman’s expression threatened to tug at his heartstrings. He almost felt as if they were ganging up on him in this display of cuteness to distract him from his anger. There was still the matter of the other stolen cats and the whole issue of Cartman’s secret identity to deal with though, so he stayed strong and didn’t let them win him over.

“Don’t try to change the subject, asshole,” he countered. 

“Fine,” Cartman sighed, knowing when he was beaten. He pushed down on the handle behind him and stepped away from the door as it swung open.

Just as Kyle suspected, the room in front of him had been taken over by felines. A couple were already asleep on the bed and the desk chair, but the rest were exploring the contents of the room curiously. A bunch of empty travel cages sat by the back wall and a few cat toys had been left out, indicating that Cartman had been sat there playing with them for a while before Kyle had gotten home. 

As Kyle was about to speak, one of the cats reached up through the arm of the computer chair and swatted at one of the sleeping cats with its paw, setting off a domino effect of chaos as the sleeping cat sprung out of the chair and landed on the desk, bumping into another cat, which set them off play-fighting and resulted in some of Cartman’s things cluttering onto the floor and startling some of the other felines.

Cartman quickly shut the door again. “Ok so I don’t know what’s gotten into them all of a sudden, but I swear they’ve been-”

“You were him this whole time, weren’t you?” Kyle questioned, feeling completely foolish for not realising sooner. 

“Um...surprise?” Cartman shrugged.

Anger bubbled under Kyle’s skin and he smacked Cartman’s uninjured arm, ignoring the pout that followed. “I can’t fucking believe you!” he snapped. “Were you laughing at me behind my back this entire time?”

Cartman frowned. “I w-”

“How much longer were you planning on letting me make a fool of myself? Did you have a good laugh every time you had to patch me up as a result of one of your schemes? Was this whole living together thing just some keep your friends close and your enemies closer kind of deal? Was this all just some elaborate plan to get me to fucking fall for you and that goddamn stupid attractive smirk of yours and then you’d spring it on me that this was all an act and you just did it to see if I’d be gullible enough to fall for it? because congratulations! You did it! here’s your fucking chance asshole!” 

Cartman was stunned into silence by the outburst. He stood with his arms slack at his sides, staring wide-eyed at Kyle, not quite sure how to respond. 

“I really thought things had changed between us,” Kyle admitted. “I thought we were finally getting along, but I guess I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

He rooted through his pocket pulling out the single metal claw he took earlier and holding it up in front of him. “You left one of your ridiculously fucking impractical claws at the crime scene earlier by the way,” he added, shoving it into Cartman’s palm and storming away from him. He made sure to shut his bedroom door with a little bit more force than usual to punctuate his dramatic exit.

Once inside, Kyle paced up and down the short length of his room wondering what to do next. A big part of him wanted to just walk out of the apartment and take his sweet time coming back, but that would have been a bit much even for him. Plus that was probably the exact kind of reaction Cartman had been planning to get from him. At least this way he could make sure the other boy wasn’t letting the cats run riot around the place. 

He stopped pacing and sighed, running his hands through his hair and slumping onto his bed. The weird thing was, Cartman hadn’t even seemed that smug about having pulled this over on him for so long. He’d just seemed shocked that Kyle was so upset about it. His reaction didn’t seem like one of a person who’d planned to cause hurt.

Kyle wondered briefly if maybe he had got the wrong idea, but decided that even if he was wrong about Cartman’s motives, the other boy had still lied to him for at least a good couple of weeks. He wasn’t about to let himself feel guilty about giving him an earful about that. Besides, he knew by now just how good an actor the other boy could be sometimes.

He was distracted from his musings about ten minutes later by a faint meow from outside his room and a light scratching at his door. Somehow he knew that it wasn’t just the cat that had followed him, but he certainly wasn’t about to invite Cartman in after everything he’d just said.

That was another thing, what was he going to do about the cats? What had Cartman been thinking when he took them anyway? Who the fuck just steals almost twenty cats from someone’s house? Eric Cartman, that’s who.

“Go away,” Kyle mumbled under his breath, even though he knew that’s not what Cartman or the kitten were going to do.

He was proven right when his door opened not even five seconds later and he looked up to see Cartman walking in with the ball of fluff under his arm. Cartman sat on the bed next to Kyle and placed the cat down between them only for it to immediately crawl into Kyle’s lap make itself comfortable. Kyle huffed, but ran his fingers through the cat’s fur anyway. It wasn’t her fault Kyle was mad so he guessed it couldn’t hurt.

“She really does like you,” Cartman observed. “It’s kind of funny because you both have poofy red hair.”

Kyle very nearly smiled at that, but forced his expression into a frown instead when he reminded himself that he was annoyed at the other boy. “What do you want, Cartman?” he questioned.

“Can I just say my side of the story a second? I was about to explain out there, but Jesus Christ you can be a drama queen sometimes.”

Kyle glared at him not appreciating the literal addition of insult to injury. “What are you going to explain first, dickhead?” he asked. “Why your room has been overrun by cats and I had to spend half an hour calming down a crying cat lady earlier or why you’ve been lying to me about your secret identity for so long?”

“Ok first of all, it hasn’t been that fucking long and you’ve been hiding your secret identity from me too, Kyle. The only difference was that you were just really shit at it. So chill the fuck out.” He ignored the look he got from the other and continued. “And secondly that woman wasn’t as innocent as she acted. The cats are here because I rescued them from her.”

Kyle’s expression softened a little at that. “Ok… I’m listening,” he prompted.

Cartman sighed, staring down at his hands where they rested in his lap. “I found out you were The Human Kite when you mentioned the claws the first time I helped you with one of your injuries, which are fucking awesome and totally not impractical by the way.” 

Kyle rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything, which Cartman took as an invitation to carry on. “I didn’t tell you then because I thought you wouldn’t want to live with me anymore if you knew I was the one who caused the injury in the first place. For some weird reason I actually kind of like living with you. I like it way more than I liked living in my old house with my mom, who was hardly ever even around anymore most of the fucking time. Although, to be honest, this place could benefit from having a cat if only you weren’t so uptight about sticking to the no pets rule.”

Kyle was about to make a snarky comment about how he thought the place had more than enough cats at the moment, but Cartman continued before he had the chance.

“Then you told me that fighting with The Coon was fun and you were getting bored until he turned up and I just… I don’t know… it made me feel important or something I guess and I didn’t want to ruin that by revealing that he was actually just me in a costume.”

Kyle felt his cheeks heat up slightly at that admission, but there was something about it that also left him confused. “You stopped fighting with me properly though,” he pointed out.

“Yeah eventually,” Cartman conceded, “because I’d see you in that ridiculous outfit and instead of thinking ‘oh great here comes this Human Kite asshole again to ruin my plans and my week’, I was thinking ‘holy shit this person is Kyle and he’s fucking flirting with me and also trying to punch me in the face while wearing a tight costume and I kind of dig it’.” He flushed a little after making that confession, but kept talking. “I started using the fights as an excuse to touch you, ok? and before you call me out on that and tell me it’s weird, you were totally doing the same thing and it was really fucking obvious.”

Ok, now Kyle’s face felt like it was actually on fire. Mostly because he couldn’t exactly deny that last part. Cartman smirked at him, but quickly looked away when they made eye contact.

“You must have worked your magical Jewish mind tricks on me after that because I suddenly stopped feeling good about doing bad things. I didn’t want you to think of me as a villain anymore. I just remembered how people back in South Park didn’t always want to give me a second chance, but you were always trying to talk me out of doing shit because you thought I could be a better person and it felt like I was letting you and myself down. So I thought that even if I didn’t want to be one of those annoying, self-righteous good guys, who don’t actually benefit from their good deeds, I could at least try to stop being the bad guy.”

He reached over to pet the cat that was now sleeping on Kyle’s legs. “Then I found out that bitch with the terrible fashion sense you talked to earlier was mistreating a bunch of sweet, innocent cats that didn’t belong to her and I wanted to kill her because cats don’t deserve that shit, but instead I thought ‘what would Kyle do?’ and I decided to rescue them and look after them until their real owners returned instead.”

Kyle felt a strange sense of pride radiate through him. He couldn’t help smiling thinking about how far Cartman had come since they were younger and the idea that he’d had some kind of impact on that process made his chest ache in the nicest way.

“I appreciated the changes, just so you know,” he admitted, wanting the other to know that his efforts hadn’t gone unnoticed. “It was nice, being on relatively the same side for a change.”

“Really?” Cartman asked, a hint of insecurity lacing his tone as he searched for something in Kyle’s expression.

“Yeah dude,” Kyle assured him. “It meant I could actually have a conversation with you without having to fight you. I…” he hesitated before deciding to just be honest, “I had been hoping it would give me a chance to get to know you better and get closer to you, but I guess I didn’t really need to worry about that when we were living under the same roof this entire time, did I?”

“Yeah well, you try living with the person you had a huge embarrassing crush on all the way through high school only to find out that he’s majorly interested in a version of you that’s way more cool than you’ll ever actually be,” he muttered defensively, frowning at Kyle’s carpet as if it had personally offended him.

Kyle rolled his eyes and gently moved the cat from his lap, placing it on the ground and scratching it behind the ear briefly before sitting back up. He placed a hand on the other boy’s arm, frowning when that failed to get his full attention.

“Eric,” he said, causing the other to abruptly turn to look at him, surprise and hope flickering in the depths of his light blue eyes. Kyle had planned to give him a reassuring speech about how he hadn’t needed to worry because the feelings were entirely mutual, but most of his words left him as he was hit with a wave of affection that had him leaning closer without thinking about it.

“You’re an idiot,” he pointed out, closing the gap and quickly capturing the other boys lips with his. 

The kiss didn’t last long and Cartman didn’t get much of a chance to return it. It was more of a quick, wordless confession than a drawn out display of affection or passion. That didn’t stop their hearts from racing at the gentle, tentative and overwhelmingly new contact between them though. 

As Kyle pulled away, Cartman stared openly at him, barely stopping himself from following the boy’s lips for another kiss. “Are you serious?” he questioned cautiously, almost as if he was afraid Kyle was going to jump up and reveal that he’d been pranked any second now.

“Completely.”

“No but seriously, this isn’t a trick right?”

“It’s not a trick, I promise,” Kyle replied firmly, not leaving any room for doubt. Cartman let out a relieved sigh and against his better judgement, Kyle pretty much melted.

“Can we do that again then?” Cartman requested, “because I-”

Kyle pulled Cartman back in before he could even finish his sentence, planting his lips firmly against the other boy’s. 

This time Cartman returned the kiss almost immediately, sending a shock of electricity up Kyle’s spine as he trailed his hands over his hips and lifted him onto his lap. All of the teasing, weighted glances and lingering touches they’d shared had been leading up to this and Kyle wasn’t about to let Cartman have the upper hand now. He ran his hands over the other boy’s shoulders and up into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly and drinking in the gasp he got in return. They continued to kiss like this for some time, taking note of the little things they discovered about each other like how soft Cartman’s hair felt against Kyle’s fingertips, or the small noise Kyle made when Cartman’s teeth caught his bottom lip.

When they inevitably pulled away from each other, they stayed close, Kyle still sitting in Cartman’s lap as they both waited for some kind of reaction from the other. Eventually, they broke into grins, unable to hold back their happiness at the fact that they finally seemed to be on the same page.

“So we’re like boyfriends now, right?” Cartman questioned, not hesitating this time before giving Kyle a quick peck on the lips.

“Do you want to be?” Kyle asked in between short kisses.

“Fuck yeah.”

“Then yeah,” Kyle nodded. “Let’s try being boyfriends.”

“Sweet.” He leaned in for another kiss, but paused suddenly. “Just for the record though, I still think the claws are fucking awesome and you’re just salty because my costume is better than yours.”

Kyle groaned, forgetting the mood and sat back on Cartman’s legs, his arms hanging loosely over the other’s shoulders. “Cartman, I’m not arguing about this with someone who runs around fighting crime in a bright red cape and a mask that has a nose,” he stated.

“Dude you literally have a kite sewed onto your back! I had to untangle you from a fire escape ladder once and you’re saying that I’m the one with the impractical costume,” Cartman argued. “If we ever become a duo, you’re not designing the costumes, that’s for fucking sure.”

“You’re not going to let me forget about that are you?” Kyle asked, already knowing the answer.

“Never,” Cartman grinned. “Just remember you signed up for this when you agreed to be my boyfriend. You also signed up for helping me find every one of those cats owners and deliver them back safely by the way.”

Kyle down glanced down at the cat and then back at Cartman before sighing in resignation, unable to say no to either of their faces. He guessed those were some terms and conditions he could live with.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the slow blink thing cats do means that they feel comfortable around you. It's their way of saying "I don't feel threatened by you so I'm trying not to look like a threat to you either." I just thought I'd stick that in there because I find it really cute.
> 
> By the way, I haven't written a kissing scene in years and I'm really bad at it so I'm sorry if that came out weird. 
> 
> I'm having a bit of a weird day with the old depression today so if anything is off with the grammar it's because my brain is finding it hard to focus.


End file.
